Li Mei's "accidental genius" had somehow spread like wildfire. She hadn't meant to impress anyone—especially not the Emperor—but now her very existence had become the palace's favorite pastime.
Every corridor whispered her name.
Every courtyard seemed to hum with half-hidden rumors.
Every servant's glance was a coin toss—pity, envy, or the kind of quiet loathing that made her skin crawl.
Her system, ever faithful and ever sarcastic, chimed in at the worst possible time.
[Warning: Multiple high-level NPCs now aware of Host's presence. Probability of intrigue-related disasters: 82%.]
Li Mei groaned aloud. "Thanks, system. Just what I needed. Nothing says good morning like knowing I've basically got a neon bullseye on my back."
[Correction: Target level: fluorescent magenta.]
She stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth dropping open. "Seriously?! Fluorescent magenta? That's a crime against color theory!"
[Yes. You are impossible to ignore.]
Li Mei slapped her face with both hands. If she could have melted into the palace floor and become a decorative tile, she would have done it gladly. But no—she still had to get to the kitchens for her morning snack. Maybe bread would calm her nerves. Or dumplings. Or an entire pig.
Her plan for edible therapy shattered the moment she turned a corner.
Lady Yun.
The noblewoman's presence was like a sudden frost creeping across the hall. Regal silk swept behind her as she stepped into Li Mei's path, and those eyes—sharp as icicles—locked onto her with the precision of a predator sighting prey.
Li Mei instantly regretted existing.
"You," Lady Yun said, her voice low and cutting, "are the maid who dares to… speak at court."
The way she hissed maid made Li Mei feel as though the word was filth staining the marble floor.
Li Mei flailed internally. Think, think, THINK. What do I even say?
She raised her hands defensively, palms sweating. "No! I mean—yes? I mean… I just—uh… survive?"
Lady Yun tilted her head, and her smile was a blade wrapped in velvet. "Survival? Or chaos?" She leaned closer, perfume cold and sharp, like winter camellias. "The palace is no place for… anomalies. You may find that curiosity here is a very sharp knife."
Li Mei swallowed hard. Her inner monologue screamed. Great. I'm either getting stabbed with words now or an actual dagger later. System, do you offer insurance packages?!
Before she could stammer herself into oblivion, a silver-gloved hand rested lightly on her shoulder.
"Let her be."
The voice was calm, commanding, and sent a chill down Li Mei's spine. She turned her head slowly, and there she was—Empress Celestia.
The Empress walked forward with the kind of presence that devoured space. Crimson and gold robes rippled like living fire, her silver eyes colder than winter moons, and yet burning with something more dangerous than anger: authority.
Lady Yun's smirk faltered.
Celestia didn't need to raise her voice. Every word landed like a judgment etched into stone. "She is under my protection. Interfere, and you will regret it."
Lady Yun stiffened, fury flashing in her gaze, but she dipped her head in reluctant obedience before sweeping away.
Li Mei's knees nearly gave out in relief. Her entire body buzzed with adrenaline as she turned to face the Empress. "Th-thank you, Your Majesty…"
Celestia's gaze lingered on her, silver eyes unreadable, before she spoke again. "Do not mistake protection for leniency. I am watching. Always."
The words slid into Li Mei's chest like ice water. She tried to bow, nod, and not collapse all at once. "Y-yes, Your Majesty. I… I understand."
The Empress's robes whispered across the marble as she left, leaving the faint echo of her warning behind.
As soon as Li Mei was alone, her system chimed again.
[Ding! New Skill Unlocked: Protected by Majesty. Passive: Minor immunity to petty court schemes.]
Her jaw dropped. "Wait… seriously? That's… actually useful!"
[Comment: Only partially useful. Scheming nobles will escalate.]
Li Mei slapped her forehead. "Escalate?! How much more escalated can this place get?!"
Li Mei woke the next day determined to keep her head down. No noodles, no clever remarks, no accidental genius. Just invisibility. If she could spend the entire morning without someone glaring at her, it would be a win.
The palace, however, had other plans.
The corridors stretched long and cold, lantern light catching on carved dragons coiled across the beams. Li Mei's slippers padded softly on the polished floors as she followed the trail of a runaway chicken. Yes, a chicken. A feathery traitor that had slipped out of the kitchens and decided to sprint through the imperial halls like it owned the place.
"Come back here, dinner on legs!" she hissed, flapping her arms in a hopeless attempt to herd it.
Her system, unhelpful as always, chimed in.
[Side Observation: Host is currently reenacting 'Foolish Mortals Pursue Fowl.' Success rate: 3%.]
"Don't mock me!" Li Mei whispered fiercely. "I'm saving this palace from chaos—well, extra chaos!"
The chicken darted around a corner. Li Mei lunged after it—and froze.
Voices. Low, urgent, conspiratorial. The kind of voices people used when plotting something that never ended well for people like her.
She crouched behind a lacquered screen, peeking through the carved lotus designs.
"You've seen how the Empress favors that maid," hissed a lord, his silk sleeves trembling as he gestured. "She dares speak out in court and lives. If this continues, others will take her as a symbol."
"She's already a symbol," a noblewoman whispered back. "Do you not hear the whispers? The Empress's judgment, reflected in a servant's hands? We must act before this… anomaly grows bolder."
Li Mei's stomach dropped. Oh no. Oh nononono. They're plotting against me. Over noodles.
Her system's cool tone made it worse.
[Correction: Over your accidental genius. And noodles, yes.]
Li Mei clutched her head. I can't believe I'm about to be assassinated because of starch and broth.
[Recommendation: Immediate evasive action. Dismemberment probability: 47%.]
She slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. Forty-seven percent?!
Before she could decide between running or fainting, a soft chuckle curled through the hallway like smoke.
Li Mei's heart jumped. She twisted around and nearly shrieked when she saw him.
Crown Prince Jianyu leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, expression dripping with infuriating amusement. Shadows danced across his sharp features, making him look less like a prince and more like a wolf enjoying a private joke.
"Running into conspiracies again, little maid?" he murmured. His voice was smooth, quiet enough that only she could hear, but laced with the kind of mischief that made her stomach do somersaults. "You do seem to have a talent for attracting… attention."
Li Mei flailed her arms in panic. "I—I'm not trying! They just—just—happen to me!"
"Of course not," Jianyu said, lips curving faintly. "But that doesn't stop the palace from noticing. Or whispering." His gaze flicked deliberately toward the scheming nobles. "Interesting, isn't it?"
"Interesting?!" Li Mei hissed back. "That's not interesting—that's my funeral planning session happening in real time!"
He tilted his head, dark eyes gleaming. "Or an opportunity. Sometimes, chaos reveals more than order ever could."
Li Mei blinked at him. "Turn… chaos… into opportunity?"
"Yes." His voice dipped lower, rich and teasing. "Like making noodles save an empire."
Her cheeks burned. "Why do you people keep bringing that up?! It was one bowl! One bowl!"
Jianyu's chuckle was quiet, but dangerous. He leaned in closer, so near she could see the edge of warmth hiding beneath his sharp exterior. "Careful, little maid. If you keep dazzling the court with accidents, even the Empress may grow curious about how much of it is truly… accidental."
Li Mei opened her mouth to retort—then froze again.
Because the air itself shifted.
The sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, each one deliberate, precise, inevitable. When Empress Celestia appeared, it was like a storm unfurling in human form. Crimson and gold robes rippled around her, silver eyes blazing with unreadable intent.
"Li Mei."
Her name cut through the hall like a blade.
Li Mei's legs nearly gave out. "Y-your Majesty—"
"You are aware that court intrigue is escalating," Celestia said, her voice even but carrying the weight of an avalanche. "And you are directly in the middle of it."
Li Mei's tongue knotted. She tried to form words, but only half-syllables and panicked squeaks came out.
Celestia drew closer, her gaze sharp enough to pin her in place. For a moment, the tension stretched until Li Mei thought she might snap. Then, just barely, the Empress's lips curved.
"That is precisely why you must learn to survive," Celestia said softly. "Observe. Act. Adapt. You are… gifted in chaos, little maid. Use it wisely."
Li Mei's heart hammered so loudly she was certain both the Empress and the Crown Prince could hear it. "I—I will try, Your Majesty," she stammered.
Celestia's silver gaze softened by a fraction—enough to send a dangerous thrill of warmth through Li Mei's chest. "Good. Remember… you are never alone. Though your allies may not always be obvious."
With that, the Empress turned and swept past, her presence leaving a crackle in the air that lingered long after her steps faded.
Li Mei exhaled shakily. Never alone? That sounds both reassuring and terrifying!
At her side, Jianyu's smirk deepened. "Well. You heard her. Survive. I can be… an ally. If you want."
Li Mei's brain short-circuited. "A-an ally?! Uh… thanks?"
He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper that sent chills down her spine. "Be careful. Chaos is your friend. But it can also be your undoing."
The system chimed in, impeccable timing as always.
[Hint: The Crown Prince may be a double-edged sword. Recommend caution.]
Li Mei threw her hands up in despair. "Why do I always get swords with personalities?!"
By the third day, Li Mei had begun drafting her own mental survival guide.
Rule #1: Don't speak unless absolutely necessary.
(Corollary: If you do speak, prepare to regret it immediately.)
Rule #2: Always look like you're busy, even if you're just dusting the same corner for half an hour. Nobles can't stab what they can't see.
Rule #3: Empress Celestia sees everything. Don't test this.
The palace was a battlefield disguised as elegance. Li Mei's every step felt like tightrope walking—head bowed just enough to seem humble, eyes lifted just enough not to seem insolent. Courtiers whispered about her as she passed, their words slipping between lacquered fans like tiny blades. "The noodle girl.""A strange favorite of Her Majesty.""Lucky for now."
Lucky. Yes. Survival was nothing but luck—and maybe the occasional noodle.
The System chimed at the worst moments:
[New Passive Skill Acquired: Danger Intuition Lv.1]
Congratulations! You can now feel your doom before it arrives. Doesn't mean you can stop it, though.
She wanted to kick the glowing text, but alas, her legs were needed for bowing.
It was only in the cherry blossom garden, after surviving another morning of veiled daggers in polite conversation, that Li Mei allowed herself to breathe. Petals drifted down like pink snow, the air sweet and deceptively tranquil.
For one rare moment, she thought: Maybe I can endure this. Maybe if I keep my head low, avoid eye contact, and never mention noodles again, I'll—
A petal landed in her palm, soft as silk. She almost smiled.
Then the System blinked again:
[Warning: New Event Triggered – Hidden Plotline Unlocked]
"Survival Game: Stage Two."
Her stomach dropped. The blossoms suddenly looked less like falling petals and more like the countdown of an hourglass.
Li Mei clutched the petal tighter and whispered to herself:
"Rule #4: Never trust a pretty garden. It's always a trap."
And somewhere, unseen, someone was watching her with far too much interest.